


A Family Christmas

by fanoftheknight



Series: More Than Words [7]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A proper family Christmas, ALL FLUFF!, Alternate curse-free universe, F/M, Jorah is still alive and well, No Angst, Poppy is the apple of her father's eye, The curse has finally been broken!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:29:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanoftheknight/pseuds/fanoftheknight
Summary: It's Poppy's first Christmas and her parents are surrounded by their loved ones in the first proper family Christmas together.There's no angst in this story but plenty of F L U F F...
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: More Than Words [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1495487
Comments: 36
Kudos: 36
Collections: Winter Jorleesi 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I realise that if you haven't read Dangerous Liaisons that a new chapter of More Than Words in which Jorah is alive and well won't make much sense.
> 
> Without giving too much of the Curse AU series plot away, the curse is finally lifted in DL and has meant that time has been re-written and this has had a huge impact on all of the stories contained within it, including More Than Words.
> 
> The curse-free More Than Words means that Jorah's second cancer diagnosis never happened and that both he and Daenerys remain cancer-free and are happily bringing up their daughter Poppy, surrounded by their loved ones.
> 
> This is just a snippet of what their curse-free story looks like and if there is enough interest, I will probably write a multi-chapter story in the series at some point in 2021.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the much happier version of the continuation of the More Than Words story for our favourite couple.

Jeor Mormont beamed as Daenerys opened the door, even though his arms were ladened down with several bags of presents.

“Jorah, your father’s here,” she called over her shoulder to her husband, before standing aside and letting Jeor through.

Jeor felt his heart melt at the sight of his son on his hands and knees, playing gleefully with his daughter.

_My granddaughter_ , he thought.

Barely six months old, Poppy Mormont had all of them wrapped around her tiny little finger.

It was Christmas Eve last year when Jorah and Daenerys broke the happy news that they were expecting a child in the new year. The time between their announcement and Poppy’s birth seemed to pass in a flash, but never had Jeor felt prouder of his son than when he entered the hospital room and saw his granddaughter for the first time.

Despite being new to it all, Jorah seemed to take to parenting with ease and Jeor was constantly amazed at how hands-on his son was with his daughter. Daenerys’ labour had been long and arduous and there were many times in the first few months when Poppy struggled to settle at night, but Jorah would climb from the bed he shared with his wife to see to her, allowing Daenerys a few more precious hours of sleep that all new parents so desperately needed as their new-born baby started to become accustomed to a world outside of its mother’s womb.

There was no aspect of parenting that Jorah was not willing to dive head-long into and he’d already changed his fair share of nappies, seen to midnight feeds, burping Poppy and settling her colic with rhythmic gentle strokes on her back.

Jorah looked up from his daughter, frowning as he eyed the amount of gifts his father had with him.

“I thought we talked about this,” Jorah said as Daenerys took Jeor’s overnight bag and placed it in the spare room that Daenerys used as her office.

Jeor held his hands up, refusing to apologise for spoiling his only granddaughter.

“Oh don’t get excited,” Jeor chuckled, placing the gifts around the Christmas tree. “Most of them are for Poppy. A man is allowed to spoil his favourite girl, isn’t he?”

Daenerys playfully nudged him on the arm when she returned to the lounge.

“What happened to me being your favourite girl?” She teased.

It was alarming how quickly the three of them fell into a routine and Jeor was pleased that his relationship with his son was becoming less strained with each day that passed. After years of tense silence and wasted time, Poppy seemed to be the one thing that slowly began healing the scars of the past. There was still a great deal of work to do, but with both men adoring little Poppy and wanting to do everything in their power to protect her and keep her safe, they at least had a good place to start from.

Jorah got to his feet before reaching down for Poppy, who let out a gleeful little giggle at being lifted and held safely in her father’s strong arms. Jorah admitted to his father not long after Poppy was born that he feared his hands would be far too big and clumsy to treat his daughter with the gentleness needed to care for a new-born baby.

Despite his much larger hands and frame, Jorah instinctively knew how to hold his child and make her feel secure in his arms, just like Jeor had when Jorah was a little boy. There were some instincts that parents were just born with.

Jeor felt his heart skip a beat when Poppy’s eyes finally landed upon him and her whole face lit up as she burbled happily at the sight of her grandfather.

“You want to sit with Grandpa?” Jorah asked his daughter, bouncing her gently in his arms as the little girl reached out for Jeor.

“Come here my sweet girl,” Jeor crooned, reaching out his arms and bringing Poppy down to his chest as he sat in the armchair. “I want you to tell me everything that’s happened since the last time I saw you.”

Poppy looked at him with such wonder and love that Jeor kicked himself for all the years lost between he and his son. How could he had ever have turned away from his boy, especially when Jorah needed him the most?

He was pulled from his sombre reverie by Poppy tugging gently on his beard as she wrapped her little fingers in the hair growing from his chin. She continued to burble at him as he listened intently pretending as if he could understand everything she was saying.

“Is that so?” He chuckled, tickling Poppy’s armpits. “Mummy and Daddy have bought you lots of toys for Christmas?”

Of course Daenerys and Jorah would spoil their daughter, she was their Christmas miracle after all. After almost two years of trying, Daenerys finally fell pregnant and they had shared the happy news with their closest family and friends, Jeor, Mary and Stan exactly twelve months ago.

Poor Poppy was spoiled from all sides and there was no lack of adoring public willing to spend time with her. Mary and Stan insisted on babysitting Poppy every month or so to ensure her parents got a little time for themselves and Jeor eagerly took any chance he could to spend time with his granddaughter. Even Jorah’s old Army colleagues Beric and Thoros were honorary uncles to the little girl.

Jeor nodded his thanks as his son passed him a bottle of beer and made himself comfortable on the opposite couch, smiling as he watched his father with his little girl.

“How is the new book coming along?” Jeor asked.

Jorah’s writing had been a source of contention between them for several years and it was only recently that the subject became less emotional for the two men to speak of.

“Poppy likes to keep us on our toes most of the time,” Jorah said with a rueful smile. “She doesn’t seem too keen when I get my laptop out and try to write.”

“That’s because she loves her father, isn’t that right little girl?”

Poppy answered with a burble and another tug on Jeor’s beard. 

Jeor could tell just by looking at Daenerys and his son that Poppy was more than a handful, especially at the age she was now. Although she looked like her father, Poppy had more than a little of her mother’s temperament in her and was eager to discover as much as she could about the world around her. From a squalling new-born baby, Poppy was now old enough to be enamoured by anything she could lay her hands on or put in her mouth and now that she had begun learning the rudimentaries of crawling, her parents needed to be even more watchful as Poppy explored every corner of the apartment she could reach.

“Dinner shouldn’t be too long,” Daenerys called from the kitchen. “Just something small to keep us going until the big meal tomorrow.”

Jorah groaned inwardly at that. Somehow, he and Daenerys agreed to cook a meal on Christmas Day for everyone, including Mary, Stan, Beric and Thoros. Jorah would be in charge of the meal preparation and would no doubt have to put up with Thoros constantly looking over his shoulder and offering his own unique brand of criticism.

Jeor looked at his son sympathetically. 

“If me being here is too much, just say so. I won’t be offended, honestly.”

Jorah shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. We’re glad to have you here.”

Jeor couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips at his son’s words. Things between them had been frosty and difficult for years and it was only now that the rougher edges of their relationship were finally becoming smoother.

He jiggled Poppy on his lap and smiled as she once again returned to tugging his beard.

“What would you say if I offered to see to Poppy this evening while the two of you have an early night?”

Jorah frowned. “We couldn’t ask that of you,” he said quickly. “Poppy can get a bit unsettled at night.”

Daenerys walked over to join the conversation, wiping her hands on a dishcloth to dry them.

“We’ll be sharing a room anyway and I’ll see to her if she needs a feed or a nappy change,” Jeor insisted gently. “I may be old and out of practice, but I think I can remember how to burp a baby and give them a bottle.”

“You’re meant to be our guest,” Daenerys said, sitting down beside her husband. “Not our babysitter.”

Jeor looked down at the precious bundle in his arms.

“Poppy and I have a lot to catch up on, don’t we, darling?”

Poppy giggled and grabbed her grandfather’s thumb in her pudgy little hand.

“See?” He said, looking at his son and wife. “Poppy says that Mummy and Daddy can have a night off. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

Much like he had when Jorah was an infant, Jeor would protect the innocent little thing in his arms with his life before he let her come to any harm.

* * *

“I still feel bad about it,” Jorah said, quietly closing the bedroom door and looking at his beautiful wife as they both began undressing. “Poppy will probably keep him up most of the night and he’s not a young man anymore.”

Daenerys smiled at her husband.

“I think they’ll be fine,” she replied, listening to the sound of Poppy giggling as her grandfather gave her a bath and readied her for bed. “He knows how much he missed out on with you and he wants to make up for it with Poppy.”

Jorah didn’t look entirely convinced.

“She might not settle with him in her room,” he replied, pulling his trousers off before folding them and placing them on top of the dresser. “And knowing my father, those two will be chatting away for hours and then they’ll both be cranky in the morning.”

Daenerys slipped a silk camisole on and looked at her husband with feigned annoyance.

“Anyone would think that you didn’t want to spend a few extra hours in bed with your loving wife,” she said, batting her eyelids at him.

It was difficult for them to spend much time alone since Poppy’s birth and as much as they yearned for a little brother or sister for Poppy, their chances of being intimate were often reliant on someone babysitting Poppy.

Not that they would change their little girl’s temperament for the world, it was just that Poppy seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to her parents seeking some time alone and would often cry out just as things were starting to get interesting between them.

It was what all new parents went through, especially when their child was so young and dependant on others for their survival and although Poppy’s demands on their time would decrease the older she got, both of them missed the intimacy and privacy they shared before their daughter was born.

Jorah climbed into bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts as he watched his wife remove her earrings and place them on the nightstand.

“I would never, ever turn down the chance to spend more time with you,” he told her, kissing her deeply as she climbed into bed beside him. “We may even get a whole night’s sleep.”

Jorah’s eyes widened when Daenerys hand snaked under the sheets as she stroked him. She grinned when his body responded instantly.

He gently grabbed her wrist and tried to move it from his groin.

“Daenerys, we can’t,” he said, swallowing deeply as his body betrayed him under her skilful touch.

She leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Says who?”

Her hot breath on his skin set his nerves on fire and he knew that he would soon be under her spell if she continued what she was doing for much longer.

“My father is just down the hall,” he gasped as she continued to stroke his length.

“We can be quiet,” she replied as her lips moved from his ear to his mouth.

“He’s not naive, he’ll know what we’re doing,” Jorah responded, keenly aware that he was losing the argument just as his hands ran up and down the sides of her camisole as if they had a mind of their own. “I won’t be able to look him in the eye in the morning if he catches us.”

“We’ll just have to take it _very_ slowly then,” Daenerys said, pulling off his boxers and sinking down onto him. “We’ve got all night.”

The many arguments Jorah had in his head all seemed to disappear when his wife guided him into her most intimate area as he watched her move slowly above him. Unable to hold back any longer, he leaned up to take her in his arms, kissing her chest and every inch of her skin that he could lay his mouth on.

* * *

Jorah smiled as he opened his eyes to find Daenerys snuggled into his side and one look at her relaxed features told him that she was still deeply asleep and hopefully experiencing a pleasant dream.

For the first time in what seemed like months, Jorah was surprised to find that he slept through the night and felt more rested than he had for some time. Between Daenerys’ pregnancy and nursing their young daughter through her first six months of life, it felt like he’d been sleeping with one eye open for years now.

Today would be another busy day and although Poppy was too young to understand what all the fuss was about; she would be surrounded by friends and family who would only be too happy to give her their undivided attention. Even though their apartment was spacious, it would soon be full of what Jorah hoped would be much food, drink, and merriment. After spending so many Christmases alone, he would be surrounded by people who were his loved ones, and would forever be grateful for the fact that his ‘family’ seemed to grow rather than shrink as the years went by.

There was much to do before their guests arrived - food to be prepared, drinks to be chilled and presents to be placed around the Christmas tree and so Jorah disengaged himself from his wife’s sleepy embrace as carefully as he could before pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. With any luck, Daenerys would be able to rest for a few more hours before Poppy would demand to be nursed at her breast. 

He crept quietly to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on knowing that both Daenerys and his father always greeted the day with a steaming cup of the beverage. He expected Poppy’s toys to still be all over the floor in the lounge and was surprised to find them all packed neatly into the wooden toy box that his father made shortly after Poppy was born.

Jorah was genuinely choked when his father turned up at their apartment with the solid wood box that he’d smoothed and varnished himself before working the surface of the wooden lid to read ‘Poppy’. His father spent many hours on it in his workshop throughout Daenerys’ pregnancy and was the reason that Jeor insisted that neither his son nor Daenerys could enter his workshop without his permission.

Jorah smiled at the memory and the fact that his father was making such an effort to correct the mistakes of their past. Too many years were lost to bitterness and anger and although Jorah knew his father could never take back any of the things he’d done that harmed his son; he wanted his own daughter to experience all of the things that he never had. There were still times when his relationship with his father was strained and awkward, but those moments lasted mere days or hours, rather than months and years.

It occurred to Jorah that he’d not heard a peep from Poppy’s room all night and he hoped that his daughter hadn’t kept her grandfather up too late. He was about to pop his head around the door into the nursery while waiting for the coffee to brew when he heard the door open.

“See, I told you daddy would be in here, didn’t I, Poppysocks?”

Jorah’s heart clenched as his daughter beamed at him and held her tiny arms out for her father. He held her close to his side as she lay her head on his chest.

“Poppysocks?” Jorah asked ruefully.

His father merely shrugged his shoulders.

“She insists I call her that and who am I to deny the girl who has stolen my heart?”

It was true. From the moment Poppy was born, she’d stolen the hearts of anyone who’d ever met her.

“Were you good for Grandpa last night?” Jorah asked his little girl.

“She was an angel, weren’t you?” Jeor replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee and then one for his son.

“She didn’t keep you up?”

Jeor shook his head.

“She fell asleep while I was reading ‘The Bear and the Maiden Fair’ to her,” the older man replied with a wistful smile on his face. “It was your favourite when you were a boy too, you know.”

“I should probably change her nappy,” Jorah replied, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at being reminded of his childhood. His father never read that story to him again after his mother died.

“No need,” Jeor replied. “I did it about ten minutes ago.” He frowned at the look on his son’s face. “I am capable of looking after a baby for a few hours, you know. I may be getting older, but I’m not senile or incapable.”

The words were said without malice but left an uncomfortable atmosphere between the two men.

“You started the party without me?” Daenerys said, walking into the kitchen to find everyone else up and awake.

“Just fortifying ourselves with caffeine for the long day ahead,” Jeor said, sipping from his cup and avoiding eye contact with his son.

“Did you both sleep well?” Jeor asked.

Daenerys gave her husband a coy smile as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“We did, thank you so much for looking after Poppy,” she said as she sat at the kitchen table. “We slept the whole night through, didn’t we?” She finished, looking at Jorah.

“Is that so?” Jeor asked knowingly, grinning as he saw his son blushing deeply when he pulled the baby monitor out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

It slowly dawned on the two of them that in their moment of passion they had neglected to switch off the baby monitor that fed sound into the nursery and vice versa.

Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh as the blood drained from Jorah’s face at the realisation he’d been caught out by his father and he wondered if he would ever be able to look the man in the eye again.

Jorah began making his way from the room, mumbling something about preparing the turkey before he realised he still had Poppy in his arms. He hastily handed his daughter to his wife and shot from the room with alarming speed as the sound of his father’s booming laughed echoed throughout the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Daenerys opened the door, grinning as Mary, Stan and their two sons stood on the other side, their arms full of gifts to be put under the tree.

She ushered them inside, hoping that Jorah wouldn’t see the amount of presents they had with them. He’d already grumbled once today that it would take them hours to unwrap them all.

It was a good thing that Jorah was busy in the kitchen and easily distracted by Thoros making comments who was looking over his friend’s shoulder as he set about preparing their Christmas meal. Jorah had already shot his old Army buddy a number of scowls and Daenerys pitied poor Thoros if he finally pushed Jorah far enough to snap at him.

It was one of the things she loved the most about her husband. Despite his frame and stature, he was a gentle and loving soul and she rarely, if ever, heard Jorah raise his voice to anyone. Yet he was only human and sooner or later his patience with Thoros would reach breaking point and the poor man would find himself on the receiving end of one of Jorah’s fearsome stares.

At least Beric was smart enough to stay well away from the kitchen and was instead playing with Poppy as she picked up different toys and tried to put them in her mouth to chew on them. Beric, to his credit, mirrored Poppy’s actions, much to Mary’s amusement.

“How’s about having a little one of your own?” Mary said, making herself comfortable on the couch, watching Beric and Poppy playing. 

It was enough to make the blood drain from Beric’s face.

“If things are going well between you and that nice girl, you should consider having children before it’s too late.”

Beric blushed at the comment and mumbled something under his breath.

The former Army lieutenant was a private man and it took months before he admitted that he was seeing a woman called Marie and it only became common knowledge when Daenerys and Jorah bumped into Beric during an evening meal at a local restaurant and weeks later he finally admitted that the two of them had been seeing each other for quite a while.

Beric still wasn’t brave enough to bring Marie to today’s festivities and with Thoros on his usual form, it wasn’t hard to see why he would want to keep her away from the lurid comments Thoros was likely to make.

Thoros, to his credit, had stayed on the wagon over the past few months, especially when Jorah told his old friend in no uncertain terms that he would not allow him to visit if he was still drinking, especially now that they had Poppy to care for.

There were a few stumbles along the way, but Thoros, for the most part, had cleaned up his act and seemed to resist the urge of reaching for the bottle. For the time being anyway.

Daenerys made her way into the kitchen, watching as Jorah chopped vegetables, stirred pots and wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead.

“How’s it going in here, Mr. Chef?” She asked, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek on his back. She could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

“You might need to start hiding the sharp knives if Thoros comes in here one more time and tells me I’m doing something wrong.”

She knew the words were said in jest, but she wouldn’t put it past Thoros to drive one of his oldest friends to violence with the gleeful way he kept pecking at him.

Daenerys hugged her husband a little tighter.

“You know he’s doing it deliberately, don’t you?”

Jorah turned in her arms and gave her a sour look.

“That’s what makes it worse,” Jorah replied with a huff. “He’ll piss himself if this turns out to be a disaster.”

She could see the tension in Jorah’s shoulders and knew how important today was to him. It was the first time that everyone he considered ‘family’ would be together and all eyes would be on him to deliver a meal that everyone would enjoy.

It wasn’t everyone they considered family though, as Missandei was still in London and spending Christmas Day visiting her mother in her care home. Jorah, sweet man that he was, insisted that Missandei should join them, yet Daenerys knew that it would just pile more pressure on her husband who was already far too practiced at being harsh with himself. In the end, they settled for Missandei joining them for the New Year’s Eve festivities instead.

She took his head in her hands and kissed him soundly.

“I promise you that this will not be a disaster,” she reassured him.

“Maybe this was a stupid idea,” he said, frowning. “Why the hell did I think I could do this?”

He said it more to himself than her, but she knew only too well how his mind worked and how Jorah would berate himself needlessly given half the chance.

“Oh no you don’t, mister,” she said, forcing her husband to look at her. “We are _not_ going there. Not today.”

As far as Jorah had come and now that his relationship with his father was much less fractious, it still took a conscious effort for Daenerys to stop the man she loved falling into unhelpful ways of thinking. Being hard on himself was his default setting and knowing his experiences in life so far, it was no surprise that he constantly felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Trying to offset a lifetime full of bad experiences with the relatively short time they had been together was still a challenge and it was an issue that would be solved over years by replacing those bad experiences with good ones and Daenerys had learned to be patient when it came to her husband.

She kissed him softly on the lips before heading to the fridge and handing him a beer.

“Everything will work out fine, I promise you.”

* * *

“Well, I have to say that was delicious,” Mary said, placing her knife and fork down.

Jorah merely frowned at his old friend, knowing that Mary would tell him she enjoyed it even if it tasted like shit.

He felt his shoulder being clasped by Beric.

“I concur, “ he said with a smile. “Best meal I’ve had in ages.”

Jorah fiddled with the label on his bottle of beer.

“You don’t have to say that, I’m not your superior officer anymore.”

“Well, superior or not, I’d tell you it was shite,” Thoros chirped, earning a frown from Daenerys and Mary for his troubles. “But it was actually a pretty decent meal, Captain. Who knew you had it in you?”

It was a good thing that Poppy was in her nursery, napping after a busy morning being fussed over by numerous guests at the dinner. Jorah made sure that he left enough vegetables over to puree them for his daughter when she woke from her nap. It would be years before she would be old enough to be able to enjoy a proper Christmas dinner, but neither did he want Poppy to miss out on today’s festivities either.

Mary held out a hand and placed it on Thoros’ forehead, feeling for a fever. He smiled at her before playfully swatting her hand away.

“It’s not like you to give anyone a compliment,” Beric said, giving his old friend a wry grin.

“Call it my gift to you all,” he said with a theatrical flourish before changing the subject. “Do you know what the Captain and Santa Claus have in common?”

Jorah scowled, knowing that whatever the punchline was, it would be at his expense.

“They only ever come once a year now.”

Daenerys smiled as she watched Jorah flush a deep red at Thoros’ comments. Even Beric and Jeor grinned and gave Jorah look of sympathy while Mary and her two sons openly laughed.

“What?” Thoros said innocently, feeling Jorah’s eyes on him. “Don’t be such a miserable sod, it’s Christmas.”

Daenerys knew without a doubt that it was the very reason Jorah wasn’t launching himself over the dinner table to smack his old Army buddy square in the face.

“Just for that, you can do the washing up,” Daenerys said to Thoros.

“Should guests have to do the washing up?” Thoros grumbled. “I wouldn’t have come if that was the case.”

Beric stood and clapped Thoros on the shoulder before dragging him to his feet.

“Come on,” Beric said, “before your mouth gets you into any more trouble.”

With Thoros out of punching distance, Daenerys motioned for everyone else to make themselves comfortable in the lounge ready to open presents once the chores were finished. She pulled her husband to one side and away from the melee of excited chatter between their guests.

“You did an amazing job,” she told him, gazing at him adoringly.

Jorah looked uncertain, rubbing the back of his neck. It was one of the biggest indicators that he was still anxious.

“Everyone cleared their plates, so I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that they enjoyed it.”

“Did you?” He asked her, knowing that her opinion, above all others, meant the most to him.

“It was perfect,” she told him. “And even better that you didn’t punch Thoros straight into next week.”

“I’m sorry about what he said,” Jorah mumbled, still angry with his old friend. “It was inappropriate.”

She waved his concern away.

“It’s just sour grapes from a man who isn’t getting laid. He’s just jealous…but it has made me think that maybe we should let your father or Mary and Stan look after Poppy a little more often so that we can…you know…I don’t see how we’re going to make a little brother or sister for Poppy otherwise.”

Her heart soared at the way his face lit up.

“Are you serious?” He said, trying to suppress his grin before it broke across his face. “You want us to start trying?”

“We should probably wait until the new year before I come off the pill, but I don’t see why we can’t get some practice in the meantime,” she smiled salaciously at him.

He pulled her close and kissed her deeply.

“Shall we tell everyone to get lost and go home?”

The look on his face made her question whether or not he was being serious.

As much as the idea appealed to her, it would have to wait for now.

* * *

The afternoon passed quickly and each of their guests gradually said their goodbyes and returned to their own homes, with the exception of Jeor, who currently had Poppy wriggling and gurgling in his arms as he tickled her playfully.

It took almost two hours, but all the presents were opened, and Poppy would soon need a bigger toy box with the amount of gifts that were bestowed on her today. Still too young to appreciate what was happening, Poppy was more amused by the wrapping paper than the actual gifts inside.

Daenerys walked into the lounge, handing a coffee to Jorah and placing another cup in front of Jeor.

“What a day, huh?” Daenerys said, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“The next time I volunteer to cook for everyone, please smack me in the face until I see sense,” Jorah replied with a tired sigh.

“You did a grand job, son,” Jeor said, looking his boy with admiration. “Your mother would have been proud at the spread you put on. A proper family Christmas.”

Daenerys felt her husband tense at the mention of his mother. Despite how far the two men had come, talk of Jorah’s mother was still a thorny subject that could turn bitter if not handled correctly.

“Here’s to many more,” Daenerys said, hoping that the conversation would not head south quickly.

Jeor held his granddaughter a little closer.

“You don’t know how much it means to me to be a part of this,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I know that I’ve wasted so many years, but I never want to make those same mistakes again.”

Unsure of how to respond, Jorah merely nodded his head and kept his gaze to the floor as he held the coffee cup between his legs.

“I know you think I’ve spoiled Poppy too much, but I have one more gift to give you,” Jeor said, handing Poppy to her mother as the babe sleepily held on to Daenerys’ top with her pudgy little hand. “This one is for you though,” he continued, holding a gift out to his son.

“You shouldn’t have - “ Jorah began, only to be cut off by Daenerys.

“Just open it,” she told him lovingly.

Both Daenerys and Jeor watched on with some trepidation as Jorah carefully unwrapped the gift, his eyes widening as he realised what it was. He’d seen the same handiwork before in the birthday present Daenerys had made him the year before.

On the front cover of the book was a picture of Jorah as a child, sitting on his mother’s lap and laughing as she smiled down at him.

Jorah felt tears filling his eyes as he turned the pages, only stopping his exploration of the book to wipe at his cheeks to stop the tears from falling on the beautifully-made scrapbook. Not only were there pictures of him and his mother, but there were also several newspaper cuttings of Jorah’s achievements during his time in the Army and numerous photos of himself in his dress uniform that he was unaware his father had taken at the time.

“Your mother would adore the man you’ve become, my boy,” Jeor said, wiping at the tears in his own eyes. “She’d be bloody furious at me for the way I’ve treated you…but I want to do better by you. I know I’ve failed you too many times already, but I love you son and I’ll take whatever small part of your life you’re willing to give, even though I know I don’t deserve it.”

Jorah said nothing for a number of moments as he ran his hands absent-mindedly over the fabric cover of the book, before placing it down on the coffee table and standing up. Despite knowing him better than anyone else, even Daenerys couldn’t read Jorah’s expression.

Unsure of what else to do, Jeor lifted himself from the armchair, bracing himself for Jorah’s furious reaction to what he had hoped was a gesture of goodwill and forgiveness towards his son. He felt himself become uneasy at Jorah’s continued penetrating gaze.

Daenerys held Poppy close to her chest as she watched her husband, his expression still unreadable, but the set of his shoulders told her that he was feeling incredibly anxious. She prayed that Jeor’s gift would have the reaction she hoped it would.

“I’ll get my coat,” Jeor said, unable to stay under his son’s penetrating gaze for a moment longer. He froze when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” Jorah said, clearing his throat.

His father turned round to face him slowly and Jeor found himself being pulled into his son’s strong embrace and suddenly, the tears that he’d held onto since the day Julia died came flooding to the surface as the retired army colonel openly wept in his son’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” Jeor sobbed through his tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Jorah held him a little tighter.

“Me too,” he replied, holding his father close. “You know what mum would want?” Jorah asked as he broke their contact and placed his hands on his father’s shoulders. “She’d want us to forget about all of that and move forward from here.”

Daenerys felt tears prick at her own eyes at the look of pure elation on Jeor’s face. Whether he realised it or not, Jorah had given his father a gift far more precious than any material possession. She could only hope that now Jorah had lifted the burden of guilt from his father’s shoulders, that he could finally begin to learn to forgive himself.


End file.
